


To Dance

by KaT_John_Adams



Category: Elsewhere University (Webcomic)
Genre: Ballet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-15
Updated: 2020-10-15
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:06:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27031642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KaT_John_Adams/pseuds/KaT_John_Adams
Summary: Content warning for suicidal ideation  and somewhat round about discussion of severe depression and suicidal feelings.Based on this post: https://elsewhereuniversity.tumblr.com/post/171350384051/a-broken-girl-who-dances-thin-limbed-and-wildWritten with permission from @dansnotavampire
Kudos: 5





	To Dance

Plumb walked out past the elm and up a game trail that almost wasn’t there. He walked up the hill as the night creatures sang to the stars and a gentle breeze played over his face, colder than ice but not unkind, begging him to turn back to warmth and safety.

Plumb walked out beyond the hill top to a field where once students and Others faced one another, and backed away from mutual destruction. The trauma in the soil clung to his feet, tried to slow him, convince him not to go on.

Plumb walked out, into the far edge of those woods, down a gravel path, and found himself a small clearing, just as the moon passed fully from the earth’s shadow, her light like a pale fire pushing on the shadows, trying to show him a way back.

And the world seemed silent for a moment. Silent for a moment before the very air swelled with music, not from instruments or voices but the earth Herself. Plumb knew the music, knew the steps to the dance - slow and painful and beautiful.

And her knew her when he saw her. Delicate as a brush stroke, immaterial as a Degas. And he danced to her, they danced towards one another. She spun away, lithe and sudden, like a wisp of wind she twisted under his hands. He followed, turning on demi-pointe as she passed.

And then he followed her light glissade jeté with a pas de chat, landing by her side and catching her hands, sending them both into an exuberant spin, lifting her into the air and then slowing, letting her slide back down his body ‘til her feet drew a lazy circle around him - ‘til they slowed to a stop, and he bowed over her form on the ground. 

They sprung up then, dashing to one side of the clearing. He took the distance in successive brisé, and she in a single grand jeté. Allongé, he caught her in his arms and they spun back, racing to the across the glen once more. She spun like a ribbon caught in the wind, chaînés sending loose blades of grass flittering into the night air. He gathered himself into a run, body exploding into a revoltade making a full two and a half turns before landing, one knee à terre.

They paused, a moment in which only his calm, trained, but rapid breaths could be heard in the frozen night air. The moon’s light seemed to take on the character of ice as the two stood, immobile. She stood above him, croisé tendu, and their eyes locked. She smiled with lips like cracking ceramic, beautifully painted but fractured. Her arms folded in and her hands rested over the empty space where a heart should be, frayed threads hanging in the space. And she beckoned him to rise.

They stand close, she touches his chest, thin, elegant fingers caressing the cooling, sweat damp fabric over his heart. 

And she asks him why.

Plumb can only smile as his eyes are sad and he shrugs. “I don’t want to be here anymore. I don’t want to know my world.”

And she asks him why.

Plumb can only smile as the tears fall. “I can’t pretend to be happy, I can’t pretend to want to get up in the morning. If I’m not dancing, I don’t even want to breathe.”

And she asks him why.

Plumb can only smile as the last unbroken parts of his heart crack to match her perfect, broken, alabaster face. “The medication isn’t enough. And the therapy isn’t enough. And I only want to live on my feet.”

She takes his hands, then, and they begin to dance, slowly – together this time. Her smile is as soft as it is lopsided.

He loves her not in the way of those who seek love, but as those who seek shelter, and they dance like friends separated by war and years.

They are together now, and sometimes you’ll see him dance with her. And his name is lost and we’ll forget it soon, but for now, it’s enough to know that the boy who named himself after lead found a place with her for his feet were the lightest of all.


End file.
